


Seen Inside

by Henna_Sully



Category: Loki - Fandom
Genre: Angry Loki, F/M, Loki as King, Mild Language, Morning After, Pillow Talk, Secrets, Sorry Not Sorry, Telepathy, Yup he's finally king of Asgard, eek, mild suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:59:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24569635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Henna_Sully/pseuds/Henna_Sully
Summary: A woman has the ability to read a person's true character by looking deeply into their eyes. In their night together, Loki forbids her from doing so with him. In the morning, though, he changes his mind, and the woman digs around in his mind a bit too far.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 8





	Seen Inside

"And so, what do you see in them?"

She was surprised. Before the sex, he'd forbidden her from looking into his eyes. Perhaps he had seen pleading in hers. Or was afraid that she might stir something in him that would make him stop.

But now, she looked. Without any sign of impatience in him, it almost felt safe to reply, though she had instantly regretted telling him about her gift. Threat seemed to have been drained from him. Regardless, there was no choice now.

"In your eyes?" she spoke softly. Then, with a rising confidence, more firmly; "Strength."

He smiled, completely satisfied with this, and not a little amused. He looked to his side, making the tiniest hint of leaning to roll away.

"-And some determination, obstinacy."

He looked back into her face. How dare she?

"Also...." she bit her lip. Dare she?

Their eyes locked. A pause of mere seconds, stretched seemingly into hours of ... A balancing act? Yes, yes, like a child's see-saw. Each of them positioned at an opposite end. Who to move first? Who to change the balance from equanimity to prey and predator. But she desperately wanted to tell him what she saw, for the sake of his subjects.

"Hurt. Betrayal. Pain. Yes, yes, I see it now - a searing pain."

"Have a care," he warned.

"My Lord," She acknowledged; she knew that she was dipping herself into danger. "You asked me, My Prince," perhaps the knowing of title and status would appease, "And I would not lie to you."

"Very well," he smiled. But his propping up of himself on his elbows, his hands so intimidatingly near to her long, brown, messy and knotted hair, left her in no doubt. Go too far and you might not get up off this bed.

"I see a deep hollow in the ground. A grave. It's lined with pain, excruciating pain. Betrayal. Confusion. Into that grave, a great sorrow has been laid, my Lord. Then it has been filled in by spades full of Resignation and..... " she stared, "Flowers grow there now," she gasped, "fed by the hidden hurt below, and by a grief that has turned into a light so bright, at times, it burns you." She paused to swallow back some pricking tears, "Yes... I see that Knowledge and Growth have both bloomed there."

His stared down at her. His brow furrowed. Interested. Listening. Hanging onto every word, and feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

She pulled together all her courage. Why stop? Her head is for the axe now, surely. She continued:

"But this flower bed that had so much potential is threatened. Weeds have crept towards it. Stretched their tendrils over it. Farther and farther they are reaching across it. A bindweed. A knotweed. Its fingers are poisoned."

"And what, pray, are these weeds?" It was not really spoken so much as a question, this time, more of a threat. "Speak!" He spat out the words, and the spittle fell on her face in sprays. She felt a quiver roll through his arms and asked herself, why would he, a god, have any difficulty in holding himself up, over her? Well, of course he wouldn't. This was controlled rage that she had felt.

"My Lord." Were it possible to bow ones head whilst lying down? She tried, and when she raised her head again, perceived the tiniest of smiles at the corner of his lips. It had been possible.

"My Lord. The weeds are bitterness and resentment. And cruelty. If they're not controlled, they will poison everything in you. You need to dig them out."

She looked into his eyes more deeply than before, piercing his pupils, reaching. He felt the cold intrusion, the hands fingering around inside his head. Searching. Following...finding... NO. NOT THAT. There are things he would not share, even with himself.

She gasped as she saw his expression darken. The transformation was horrific. The speed of it terrifying. She bit her lip and held her breath as his beautiful, emerald eyes turned red.

"You have spoken out of turn, little witch," he growled, "I should remove your tongue. GUARDS!" He rolled away from her so violently she nearly fell out of the bed, then pushed himself quickly away, huge strides towards the door. Throwing it open, three men in ceremonial armour entered.

"Take this... this..." He looked over his shoulder at her. She had sat up, sheet wrapped around her.

He was appalled by her composure. No shaking? No fear? Oh, REALLY? So she had known this outcome was ahead and hadn't cared. Ha! "Take this WHORE to the dungeons!"

She tightened the sheets around her and stepped down. He looked at her tiny form, her pathetic acceptance. She stumbled, almost tripping over the sheet, and it began to pull away from her body. Again those beautifully blue, almost purple eyes looked at him and, as her pure white skin became exposed to the three strangers, he saw that she was silently begging him for help.

"WAIT!!" The guards stopped in their tracks and turned towards their god-king.

"You may dress first," he said quietly, with a wave of a hand. He walked over to a crystal decanter and poured himself another whisky.

Once dressed, she joined the guards. Walking slowly towards the door with them she paused, and looked towards him, his back still turned.

"Forgive me, Sire," He stiffened and looked up at the wall in front of him, "But it is what I saw."

Silently, and without turning, he took another sip of his drink.

Giving up, she looked at a guard and offered her hands.

The sound of the metal cuffs sliding into their locks made him flinch, but still he would not look. With a last glance towards him, she was removed from his chambers.

Just as the door was closed behind her, Loki whispered, gently, "I know." And a little salt fell into his glass.


End file.
